


Better Than Life

by Over_Run_666



Series: Chip Pusher [3]
Category: Shadowrun
Genre: BDSM, Boot Worship, Damsels in Distress, F/F, High Heels, Mind Control, Personality Swap, Submission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:34:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Over_Run_666/pseuds/Over_Run_666
Summary: The captive of a dangerous drug lord begins her escape with her powerful magic. Only to find some prisons aren't just walls.
Series: Chip Pusher [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2001205
Kudos: 4





	1. Better Than Life

**Better Than Life**

An erotic Shadowrun Short Story

By Over_Run_666

The captive tore at the frayed corner of the mask she had ripped on the damaged corner of the old bedframe. She thought she heard a sound and stopped. Rolling slightly on that thin mattress, rubbing her head as if she had an itch. She lay still and listened. Nothing… at least, nothing close. Still she had to be careful. She had been carefully working on this flaw in her hood for hours. Several nights had passed since she had pulled that first stich. Without her sight she was worked entirely on feel and relied entirely on hearing to watch out for the guards. She knew that this was her only chance.

After a few minutes she started to work again, always lying on her side so as to hide from the camera she assumed this room had. A pair of stiches popped which caused her to stop sharp. How loud was that? It sounded loud but it was literally next to her ear. She stopped, listening again. Nothing happened. She pulled with all her strength on the thick leather. Stitch after stitch popped, she was using both hands now and the light from a single led panel flooded into her eyes for the first time in days. She Squinted against the glare, her eyes adjusting slowly. Suddenly the hood wouldn’t tear anymore. She had to roll over to where her head was over to the burred corner of the bed and tear at it again. After a few minutes more gave way. She pulled at the seam or reinforcement and it started to give. She could see the walls of the room for the first time, just about. She pulled with both hands with all her might. Which she knew was little compared to most other Shadowrunners. Her skills were in the electronic and the arcane. Intelligence and mental fortitude. Being both a Sorcerer and a Decker was a rare and precious amalgamation. It was also one that left little time to pump iron and precious little room in her spiritual body to augment herself with cyberware. She bit down on the hoods ring gag between her teeth as she pulled downwards. The muscles in her slender arms tensed completely and she felt it finally give, tearing loudly. All of this must be obvious to anyone watching but it was too late now, one way or another.

The budding escapee had one eye completely uncovered now but a thick strap down her nose meant she couldn’t pull it any further or uncover her other eye. Not without some better tools at least. She surveyed the small room properly for the first time. There really was only simple metal bed in this small, 6’ by 6’ room with one light. There were a couple of O rings embedded in the magnolia walls. There wasn’t mould or stains and while squalid magnolia was a favourite of low rent landlords this clearly was somewhere Lady Park cared about cleaning. As suspected, in the top corner of the room opposite the bed was a tiny black plate, clearly a camera. She suspected this was possible one of Parks many businesses from the sounds that she heard through the hood. It was a hellova secure looking door. She was considering this problem when she heard running footsteps. Hopefully this problem would resolve itself. She went to get off the bed and stopped herself. Lady Park had specifically told her to stay on the bed. At first Parks attempts to ‘train’ her had seemed hilariously unlikely but to her constant frustration she knew it was working. She had originally been following Parks commands to protect herself from physical abuse but it wasn’t long before she began to actually follow her orders willingly, even to enjoy it. She forced herself onto the cold floor in her bare feet. A feeling of guilt at countermanding Parks orders welled up in her, then annoyance at herself for feeling that.

The door swung open, and the two black armoured guards rushed into the room. Tazers sweeping across the room, shock batons at the ready in their off hands. Upon finding no sign of the captive in the room one of them turned around and checked the hall. The first one suddenly reeled back clutching his helmet, eyes wide above the black mask over his mouth and nose. He fell against the other guard and slipped to the ground as if hit in the face. The other guard turned quickly and fired the Taser which clattered harmlessly against the wall over the bed. He clearly didn’t expect to hit something but was still surprised that he didn’t see anything. Then he reeled backwards against the wall in the hall like the first guard. The first guard began to stand unsteadily swinging the shock baton so that it caused a crackling arc in the air. Then he was hit again by this invisible force and slumped to the ground eyes rolling. The other guard crawled up the hallway away from the door as the captives beautiful naked golden form appeared in the doorway. Her bright brown eye focused on the guard from the torn hole in black leather hood she was wearing. Then he too hit the ground.

The captive walked through the hallway carefully. These walls were a pale pink and the floors still concrete but there was the occasional abstract artwork and she even passed a mirror. She looked at herself. She was stark naked except that black hood. Her golden skin was tattooed with white lines with terminal circle endings that formed a Nasca style bird shape on her back. It was still somewhat marred by red lines from the whip during her ‘training’. The gold bars through the nipples of her pert breasts shone in the light. The ring gag in her mouth was sealed with a plug on a small chain to the chin of the mask. She pulled the plug out by the chain and breathed deeply. She knew she had only not done so previously because Lady Park had put that in and once again, she felt her anger at herself grow. A dribble of blood came out of the now open mouth hole. It reminded her of the dull thudding ache in her head. Clearly maintaining that invisibility spell and had made at least one of those stun bolt spells too much for her. Hopefully her fetishes and foci were still somewhere round here. She’d be more powerful and have access to more spells. 

Kneeling down she picked up a stun baton and disappeared as the invisibility spell took hold. She padded carefully down the hall, she didn’t even risk picking up clothes or armour, her main risk was being spotted now. Tip toeing around a corner she stopped making a slight gasp. Lady Park was at the end of the hallway, standing imperiously no more than 5 meters away. In her black leather, knee length, sleeveless dress. Her hair was up in a bun held in place by two long gold needles. She seemed to be looking at the invisible sorcerer, did she know she was there, did she hear her?

The escapee’s ruminations were rudely interrupted by Parks perfect English elocution “Ah welcome Brujah. You aren’t going to keep pretending you can hide from me, are you?”

The invisible captive started walking backwards slowly.

“Don’t leave, let me see you.”

Brujah appeared suddenly in a combat stance. In truth she didn’t know why she dropped the spell, even if she was being tracked by some implant it would have helped to remain unseen. Did she obey Park against her better instincts?

She stared at Parks beautiful brown eyes with her own one eye. She just had to cast that stun bolt. In truth, she didn’t know why she hadn’t already. She was still paralysed, despite it all she didn’t want to hurt Lady Park, she hated herself for thinking that.

Lady Park saw her hesitation “Drop the weapon, crawl over here and I’ll go easy on you.”

The baton clattered from the stunned Brujahs hand to the floor. It took all her willpower to not drop to her hands and knees right now. Despite her fearsome powers she was quaking.

Park seemed to become frustrated with the captive’s inaction, her face became stern. “Enough of this, it seems I’ll have to turn it up.”

Immediately Brujah dropped to her hands and knees. Instead of the rush of pain she expected consort was instead overcome with a flood of emotions. Fear, submission, arousal, love. All more powerful than she ever felt. She suddenly felt desperately afraid of disobeying Lady Park. Disappointing that evil captor seemed like it would totally destroy Brujah. She powerfully wanted to be hurt by this Asian gangster, to be humiliated, dominated, all of it. Just the thought of being at the mercy of Park had her created a sudden drizzle of fluid from her pussy.

‘Get over here worm.’

In response, and finding herself completely unable to resist, Brujah fell to ground on all fours. Her head dropped and she crawled down the hallway and this turned Lady Parks expression into a wry smile. Deep inside herself, she was horrified at what she was doing but she so found herself desperately wanting to do this, to do anything for Lady Park.

When she reached the red, stiletto heeled, thigh-high, boots that Park wore she sat down hoping for so positive response.

“Don’t you dare use any magic unless I tell you. Do you hear?” Park barked, betraying an unusual angry tone.

The submissive nodded quickly. Park pushed her head down with her right index finger. She looked at the dirty concreate floor, while she heard the Lady rummaging in her clothes. She felt fingers on the back of her neck and hood. Soon there was a click and the hood became slack. It was yanked off her face and thrown to the concrete. Her bright green hair flooded down in mess past the captive’s shoulders. A shiny chrome panel with a datajack port was visible underneath on the right side of her head. She was totally free, physically. She could zap Park quickly but try as she might she couldn’t bring herself to do so.

“Pesonaflix?!” She said as she began to weep, as she realised her real personality was overwritten by this artificial copy of someone else’s emotions. They had been running a complicated BTL chip in her headwear the entire time. Long term BTL usage has crippling side effects. She no longer had control, existing like an unheard voice in a mind controlled by an artificial personality. This fake persona that had been affecting her emotions all this time.

She cried more and more, realising to her horror that she was crying because not because of these selfish concerns, but because she had failed Lady Park. That she had caused her inconvenience and hurt her men.

“Yes.” Said Park, unable to hide the disgust in her voice. “A recording from my best sub. Now pull yourself together, you’re pathetic.”.

The naked submissive wiped her eyes and looked up hoping desperately for some positive reaction.

She found none on Lady Parks stone face. “Follow me.” She spun on her heels and walking down the hallway. “Hands and knees.” She called back, her accent showing slightly, as her slave had started to rise to her feet.

The slave dropped to her hands and knees and started to crawl slowly. Internally she told herself to stop, in truth she knew she could. But this false personality only cared about pleasing Lady Park. She felt a deep love for Park and a need to comply with her every wish. These artificial emotions were made to dwarf any real emotions she could feel. 

She was a happy slave now and doing what Lady Park commanded made her happy, even when Park would hurt her. Which she surely would for daring to try to escape.


	2. Submission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brujah faces her captor, and the new personality that was been implanted in her. The once proud Shadowunner Sorcerer/Decker has to realise her previous power is nothing with her emotions being co-opted.
> 
> \------  
> Still contains mind control, emotion control, bondage, humiliation, submission, domination and some kinky boots.

**Better Than Life – Submission**

An erotic Lesbian BDSM Shadowrun Fanfiction

By Over_Run_666

Brujah crawled across the hard dirty concrete, naked as the day she was born. Her head was bowed in submission the whole time, her wavy bright green hair hung over her pitiful face. Her golden skin was marked with dirt and red welts from her trials over the previous days. Her ample breasts swayed as she crawled. The white lighting in the corridor was dim enough that her large circuit board nasca style eagle obviously glowed green.

She crawled through the doorway that Lady Han Park had entered a moment ago. The thin worn carpet inside was huge relief on her sore knees.

But in a way she was disappointed to be so relieved. Her new, stronger, more passionate, artificial personality was thrilled by the pain and humiliation and would see it continue.

This was some kind of low-level office. The expensively dressed Lady Han Park was quite out of place with her legs crossed in that cheap spin chair. She addressed her captive with venom in her voice. “Oh. So, you finally arrived. I’m still not best pleased with needing to come down here and get my hands dirty. Get over here worm.”

The captive crawled over. Brujah was fearing for her life, but she was still looking for an opening to attack, to get herself out.

However, Brujah might as well have been planning to overthrow a dragon for all the good it did. The slave personality was in control now. She felt the fear, the humiliation that Brujah did but her response was pure desire. Desire for it to continue, to get worse. Desire for Lady Park.

She was in front of Park now, she dared not raise her head but she could see those red stiletto-heeled boots.

“Looks like it’s not just my hands that are dirty. Why don’t you clean my boots?”

Park placed one foot on the back of the slave’s neck and pushed her down until she was kissing her boots.

“And don’t forget the soles.”

Much as it disgusted Brujah, she licked that boot like it was lollipop. The coating on that red leather tasted disgusting but the filth on soles was another level entirely.”

Han Park leaned casually on her left arm and typed on the wrist secretary she wore on it.

It beeped a moment later and an elegant, familiar, voice answered. “Lady Park. How my I help my Mistress?”

“You know what we were planning is studio 13?”

“Yes, Mistress Park.”

“Well get it read for recording. I’ve got a little bitch down here that’s begging for that kind of fun.”

“Yes Mistress, I’ll be ready.”

“I should think she’ll be very happy to take some of the weight off her feet by then.”

The wrist phone beeped.

Brujah wondered what she meant by that but didn’t dare stop licking.

“How are we doing down there?”

The captive didn’t talk assuming that was a rhetorical question. She just licked faster down that stiletto heel.

“Not even one done. Even as a boot licker you are worthless.”

Han drove the heel of her other foot into the slave’s hand, crushing it against that thin carpet.

The slaves body winced before she went back to licking. The captive was more aroused at this additional indignity but Brujah was locked inside her own head keenly feeling every bit of the pain, every degradation.

It was only when her boots were considered sufficiently clean did Han turn in her chair and open the large bottom draw of the desk.

She withdrew a pair of shiny black leather knee length ballet boots.

“These look clean enough.” Lady Park said as handed them to the kneeling slave.

The captive went to take them but Han didn’t let go. She looked the slave in the eye. “Oh, but those heels look like they could use some work. Make sure you clean them. In one go all the way down.”

Brujah was clearly confused but her body reacted with certainty. She took the boots, lay one in her lap, put her head back pushed that 7” plus heel into her mouth, down her throat. She gagged on the first heel but forced it down until it wouldn’t go any further.

She repeated that with the second heel and gagged again.

A look of disgust was on Hans face when she addressed the girl. “You’re going to have to do better than that. We don’t have room for gag reflexes among my stables.”

To her own surprise the slave answered meekly. “I’m sorry Mistress. I’ll do better.”

The captive was angry with herself. The spirit was willing but the body wasn’t practised. It wasn’t skilled in any of this.

Han seemed almost bored as she said. “Put them on.”

The slave body went to work quickly slipping on the right one till the black leather was up the bottom of her knee. She began tightening the laces from the bottom up, too tightly, Brujah would consider. She repeated this with the other boot, pulling it up to her knee, beginning to lace it.

“How much time do you think I have worm?”

The captive shuddered at the harsh tone. Each admonishment was a brutal disappointment, deep regret, deep seated fear. All far in excess of paltry non computer-generated emotions.

Brujah was under the impression that she was working as quickly as physically possible with those long, long laces.

After finding some more speed she managed to get that boot tied up.

“Now give one to me.” Lady Park said hiding something in her hand.

Brujah awkwardly tried to lift a boot up to seated woman.

Lady Park looked down at the woman with derision. Her head resting in her hand. The pointy shoe waiving in front of her. She could reach lean over and grab it, but she shouldn’t need to. “You’re pathetic. You DO know I’m still going to punish you, don’t you? Perhaps you are under the impression that it could not get any worse. Well let me tell you. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

For once both parts of the captive’s personality were in total agreement. Waves of fear poured over her mind.

She was nearly hyperventilating as she shuffled towards the woman on her back. Only when her ass was close to those red stiletto boots did she carefully, as gracefully as she could manage. Rest the en-point toes of her black right boot on the old office chair.

A slight smile crept across the lips of that gang boss. She pulled a leather flap from the side of the boot across the front, covering the laces. The flap terminated in four straps with a series of horizontal slots in them. Han pulled them tight and fed one over a metal hoop on the other side. She then put a small padlock through the hoop and locked it tight. She repeated that for the other three securing away the laces, locking the boot to her foot.

“Left.” Han demanded.

The slave’s right boot was taken away and replaced with the left. Park began locking that one.

The recumbent captive reached down to the boot that she pulled close to her bare ass. She ran her hand up and down the tight leather. It was a perfect fit. Tightly tied. Firmly locked.

She hadn’t tried walking in them yet, she knew it was going to be very difficult. The idea of her being so thoroughly hamstrung, her limbs being locked away, was the most intense turn on. She couldn’t believe that these expensive boots were just lying around in an office drawer. How long had Lady Park been planning this precise situation.

Then she rebuked her stupidity. She had been here longer that she could work out, plenty of time to have some delivered and Lady Park knew exactly how this would end before the Shadowrunner realised it had started.

Soon the other boot was firmly locked on her too.

Lady Park slapped that black boot and the captive immediately knew to pull it away. “Kneel.” Han barked.

The slave quickly pushed herself up and over into a kneeling position, head bowed low. The boots seemed quite suited to that.

Han turned, opened another drawer and pulled out something that rattled metallically. The slave didn’t dare look up so didn’t see what it was until it was bought in front of her. A row of semi and quarter circles of thick shiny metal attached by heavy hinges.

The middle, largest half circle, was put against the front of the captive’s neck. The slave’s blue hair was swept out of the way. Then there was one clank, then another and Brujah felt a pressure around her neck.

“Arms out in front.” Han commanded, quietly but confidently as she wheeled herself to the side.

Brujahs arms shot out as if she were supplicant offering up an offering.

“Left hand.” Barked Han.

When the slaves put her hand behind her head, Brujah felt her shoulders being stretched metal cuff was closed around her wrist locking it to the metal collar.

“Right hand.”

Once again Brujah’s body complied and her wrist was again locked behind her neck next to the other one.

There was a little metallic rattle and the distinctive click of a pad lock.

Han stood up and Brujah, almost out of instinct, tested her bonds. The collar was two inches high and at least inch wide, and the cuff parts that were equally wide ensuring her elbows would be forced to point skywards (were she allowed to stand). This forced her head to bow slightly. Meanwhile her hands hung uselessly against her shoulders.

She felt stiletto heeled boot on the centre of her back.

“There you go.” Lady Parks voice was soft with hint of menace. “All trussed up properly. Does that feel better?”

“Yes mistress.” The slave replied meekly. Brujah shouted at herself, she was anything but feeling better. She had never felt so vulnerable, so degraded, so anxious. She was in concert with her new personality so these emotions were stronger than any ‘real’ emotion she had felt before.

But she could barely concentrate on any thoughts of freedom or feeling sorry for herself as wave after wave of arousal flooded her body.

Her breathing was deep and rapid, as much as could be expected in her position.

Her heart was beating like a was trying to escape.

Her nipples were as hard as bullets.

It felt like her clitoris was as large as her tongue.

She was so wet between her legs for second she thought she had peed herself.

She couldn’t believe it and, for the first time since she gained her new persona, Brujah was forced to speak. “Please Mistress. Please fuck me Mistress Park.” Her pleas were weak, ad-hoc and revealing to the Lady.

Lady Park threw her head back and laughed derisively like anime villainess. “AWWHOHOHOHO.”

Han’s rubber clad ass bounced onto Brujah’s back driving the air from her body.

Feeling that dominant woman’s soft ass through that stretchy, snapping dress, with Hans sex so close to her, that her hitherto unknown levels of sexual arousal were heightened even more.

Brujah began to worry she might have a heart attack like some ancient heir with his gold-digging, college age, 3rd wife.

“Oh little slut.” Han said derisively. She gave Brujah’s ass a sharp smack with cupped hand

It hurt Brujah a lot but just continued to drive her body wild with desire.

“Don’t you remember? You have some punishment coming to you. Did you think I had forgotten?

“No mistress.”

“I could slap you about here...”

Brujah wished she would.

“…but then it would over. No, I’m going to get one of my girls to do, one who could record it. Then I’ll be able to relive having you tortured whenever I want. I’ll be able to sell chips of your being hurt to anyone who’ll buy them. Any of your enemies, your remaining friends, people that just like the look of you and would like to see you fucked up.”

Brujah was appalled at the idea, she was being made into a fuck toy for this bitch. Made to perform like some kind of animal.

But that was a weak shit emotion compared to the massive thrill that her new persona got from the idea of that level of public humiliation.

The gang boss rose gracefully and put her boot in the Shadowrunner’s ribs, kicking her onto her side.

“So little whore. You have an appointment. Out the door to the left. Stairs are through the door at the end. Go up 5 floors and go to studio 13. My simslut will be waiting to give you what you need. Now hurry along. The quicker you are, the less punishment you will take. If you’re very good she might even let you get off.”

This was all the imperious the slave needed. With great flexibility she put what could generously be call the sole of her right ballet boot on the ground next to her. She rolled her weight onto it and began to slowly, carefully, raise herself up on that those toes and that needle thin heel. With her arms bound tightly and awkwardly she had no way to push herself up and nothing to help her balance. She was more than aware of time pressure but this was so difficult she couldn’t go any faster. She took a deep breath and pushed herself up snapping her left foot under her. She had to take a few steps to balance herself but soon she was standing upright. She stood in front of her mistress, arms bound, feet locked in ballet boots. Her breasts and sex completely exposed for anything Han wanted to do.

Sarcastic clapping came from the dominatrix beside her. Han reached out and put a keycard into the slave’s mouth. “Very good. You’re a quick study. But don’t you have somewhere to be?”

The slave turned taking tiny step after tiny step, faster and faster. Moving as fast as she could in these horribly uncomfortable boots. Rushing towards this much anticipated punishment.


End file.
